


Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright; In the Forest of the Night

by LadyLaela (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, Nightmares, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-16
Updated: 2011-07-16
Packaged: 2017-10-21 10:46:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/LadyLaela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first week after the game jolted everything back to normal, he slept like he was dead. You'd never seen anything quite like it before, never in his entire life has Dave been anything but a violently restless sleeper.</p><p>Now he's worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bright; In the Forest of the Night

The nightmares are worse again.

For the first week after the game jolted everything back to normal, he slept like he was dead. You'd never seen anything quite like it before, never in his entire life has Dave been anything but a violently restless sleeper.

Now he's worse.

He's woken you up every night this past two weeks with his thrashing. Sometimes you wish you weren't such a light sleeper. You got into his room and sit quietly on the side of the bed, pushing back his sweaty hair. Even passed right out he seems to sense your presence, and eventually, he calms. Once you're over being grumpy about waking up, you're glad you're a light sleeper. The kid would never get any rest if you weren't there to calm him down.

He slept with you every night until he was damn near eleven for just that reason, and somewhere near the end of twelve he'd started refusing to come to you at all, no matter how bad he got.

He thought he was too old.

So you continue to respect that, even when you're jolted out of sleep by his dry heaving. You want to check on him so damn bad, but hell, if he's determined to tough it out you'll let him.

You wake one night to him in the doorway, whiter than you've ever seen him and all fear and sweat. Damn, he looks bad. You sit up a little, twitching your hand to invite him over. If he's been like this every night, fuck it, he's sleeping with you for a while. He hesitates, then he's in your arms so suddenly you wonder if he's finally managed to flashstep.

Dave's starting to smell less like a scared little kid and more like a bundle of sweat and horomones, but you don't really care and you hold him close and tight, nudge him to lay back down with you and tuck the blankets around him.

He's shivering.

You know it must be the game he keeps dreaming about, but you wonder what exactly got him this worked up. The way he's clutching your shirt makes you think it might have been you with a sword through your chest. His hands are nearly as big as yours, now, and they're clutching at you like they did when they fit in your palm.

Maybe he's crying. You're not going to shame him and check.

Seeing him like this reminds you of something it's become damn easy to forget.

He's just a fucking kid.

At his age he should be running around the mall and worrying about the grades the computer spat back at him for his homeschooling, but instead he'd killed and been killed and watched his friends die.

Watched you die.

He's been through more than most adults, now, and it makes you fucking hate yourself. You trained him for this. You pushed him to grow up real damn fast, forced him and forced him and now maybe he's broken. You won, too. He was the most prepared of all of them, and he did a great fucking job.

It's a hollow victory for you. Your only reward is to see him all messed up like this, his fiery spirit crushed and all that bravado gone and oh god it makes your heart hurt. You'll never be able to hold him close enough.

But out of the ashes rises the phoenix.

He's not just a kid.

He's your kid.

You lower your head, his shaky, halting breath right in your ear and your warm mouth up against his. “Dave... m'proud of you.”

Shit. Now he really is crying.


End file.
